Six Degrees Of Separation
by kerosene-angel
Summary: A Stendan story based on the song 'Six Degrees of Separation' by The Script. Its a beautiful song and it really sums up the whole of Stendan's relationship. Slight swearing and slash but not explicit.


"First, you think the worst is a broken heart, what's gonna kill you is the second part, and the third; when your world splits down the middle, and fourth; you're gonna think that you've fixed yourself, fifth; you see them out with someone else and the sixth, is when you admit that you may have fucked up a little..."

_First_

He couldn't believe that this was happening, Brendan was his boss for crying out loud! This sort of thing wasn't supposed to happen. It was kind of his fault he supposed, he had kissed him first but Brendan had carried it on! He had come to find him in the cellar of the club and had proceeded to kiss him senseless. But now he was crouched on the floor of the self same cellar clutching his aching ribs, the site of a punch from the man who had rocked his world off of it's axis. His breath was coming in pained gasps and he was embarrassed to feel hot tears running down his face. Brendan was crouched in front of him and he could just register the words he was saying, "You disgust me." Brendan stood up suddenly and said something about taking him to the hospital, but he couldn't hear him. The only sound that he could hear, was the sound of his heart breaking in his chest...

_Second_

"I might just pay a visit to your little friend."

"What friend?"

He couldn't concentrate. Warren was standing behind him and he could sense the look of confusion on his face from here. He was staring at Danny, trying to make sense of the jumble of words in his head. Only one thing was registering in his mind though; that Danny was threatening Steven. He couldn't allow that to happen. He had to protect Steven, at all costs. Suddenly, he was moving. His arm reaching back, grasping for the nearest object that would get rid of this threat. His hand grasped a hard wooden handle, and he moved his arm forward again. Danny was smiling, obviously pleased that he had found something to hold over him. Before he was even fully aware of what was happening, his arm was raised up and falling back down, the hammer in his hand making contact with Danny's face. Images of Steven flashed across his minds eye, in time with the sound of the hammer. He couldn't stop, the threat had to be taken away, Steven had to be protected, he had to be safe. He didn't know what he would do if something happened to Steven.

Later, when he was in the car in Warren, Danny's body in the boot, he allowed himself to think about what he had just done. He had murdered a man to protect Steven. Instead of feeling a sense of panic, he felt calm. He knew that if the situation ever arose again, he wouldn't hesitate to do it again. Because the alternative was a life without Steven, and he didn't think he could stand that, couldn't survive without him. If anything happened to Steven, he thought as they dropped Danny's body into the river outside The Dog, it might just kill him.

_Third_

This could not be happening. There is no way that this could be happening. He opened his eyes again, fuck, it was happening. How could this have gotten so messed up? One minute he was celebrating having Steven back in his life, in his arms (and more importantly in his bed), and the next he was covering himself from Eileen who had appeared at the door like some small, Irish Grim Reaper come to end his relationship with Steven. He was stammering something about how it wasn't what it looked like, cutting Steven off when he tried to interrupt. Eileen wasn't fooled though, she knew exactly what was happening and it disgusted her. Suddenly he found himself at a loss for words. He couldn't explain away what had obviously happened here, the whole flat smelled like sex for Christ's sake! But here he stood, his past and his future before him and he realised that he had a choice to make, but he couldn't choose. To choose Steven meant losing his boys, and to choose his boys meant losing Steven. His world was splitting at the seams, and he was powerless to stop it.

_Fourth_

Doug stared at him, his eyes darting slightly from side to side. He could see the questions in the blue depths but also could see the residue of fear lingering there. He had to make sure that this was what Doug wanted. One wrong move and this could all come crashing down around him. He couldn't let that happen again. But at the same time... He had never been in this position before, where he had to rake control over someone and lead them through the mine field that this could be. He had had a leader, someone he trusted unerringly, who he would have followed til the bitter end. But that was all gone now. The dream of their happily ever after floating in tatters to the ground. Amy had been right, Brendan would cause nothing but heartbreak and pain, he was lucky to have gotten away from him. Wasn't he? He focused again on the blue eyes staring hopefully at him. So familiar and yet so foreign at the same time. Before he could stop himself he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Doug's. Everything was going to be okay now, he decided. And if when he kissed Doug, he was actually thinking of another set of baby blue eyes, well, no one had to know did they?

_Fifth_

He was in a bad mood. That much was obvious to anyone around him. He stared at the wall in front of him, as if willing his eyes to burns holes into the cement and through the window of the building just a few paces away from him. For inside that building lay the reason for his anger, serving customers with a smile on his face and a song in his heart. All the while shooting loving glances at the man who did not belong with him. He snarled slightly to himself, remembering how the Yank had stared at Steven with nothing short of adoration in his eyes. There was only one person in the world who was allowed to stare at Steven like that and that was him! He turned sharply away from the wall and instead stalked towards the bar, intent on finding something to numb the ache that almost always accompanied thoughts of his Steven. He snorted to himself "_his_ Steven"? He had lost the right to refer to him like that a long time ago. But that didn't mean that he was oblivious! Steven was a good looking lad, anyone with two eyes and a brain could see that, he just didn't understand how he was ever going to win this one. He was Brendan Brady for gods sake! A man feared by everyone and loved by no one. Well, excepting Cheryl. He downed his measure of Scotch and gasped at the burn, a plan forming in his head. He had to win Steven back, and no newly-turned Yank was going to stop him from getting what he wanted.

_Sixth_

His eyes dropped from Cheryl's caring and understanding gaze and focused instead on the piece of paper in his hands. An order of service. For Steven's wedding. To Douglas. Bile Rose up in his throat suddenly and he swallowed quickly to hide his physical sign of sickness from his baby sister. Who had only just started to allow him back into her life, he couldn't ruin her view of him now. But somehow, she knew how much this was hurting him, she had to know. He saw it in her gaze and heard it in the soft tone of her voice. He stared down at Steven's smiling photo, studiously avoiding looking at the image of Douglas next to him. He sniffed suddenly and looked up, not at Cheryl, but straight ahead, waiting for divine inspiration to strike, but none came. Instead a voice echoing in the deepest recesses of his mind, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Steven saying "You've fucked up now haven't you, Brady?" he sniffed again and looked back down at Steven's smiling face. Yeah, he thought to himself. Yeah he had.

"Are you still in love with our Brendan?"

He stared ahead at Cheryl. One part of his brain, that sounded like a mixture of Doug and Amy was screaming at him to deny it, while a second quieter half was whispering that he wouldn't be sat in Brendan's chair if there wasn't some grain of truth in what Cheryl had said. He wanted to laugh but at the same time he wanted to cry. He remembered waking up in the hospital after the crash, begging Cheryl to bring Brendan to him, of feeling his cross wrapped around his hand, feeling the tears flowing freely down his face as he realised that Brendan wasn't coming. That pain still stabbed at him when he wasn't expecting it. Like when the kids made him laugh, or when Doug kissed him on the cheek and he suddenly realised that something was not right. Something substantial was missing from his life, and for the first time he allowed himself to voice, if only to himself that it was Brendan that he wanted, that he needed to survive. The voices of Amy and Doug had fallen silent now, and the quieter, distinctly Irish voice was smugly proving how right he was, when that was shunted to one side by a crippling thought. Brendan was gone, had left because of him. And suddenly the pain was back, the edges of the hole in his chest ripping apart again. Brendan had gone, he wasn't coming back, and he had left Steven more broken than ever.


End file.
